First Week
by tatertots370
Summary: Everyone cries and attempts to cope. Sort of a song-fic. Post-finale. One-shot (a long one!) I've worked my tucas off...


_**First Week**_

**Disclaimer: **Don't own one bit of _The O.C._ nor do I have one bit of the lyrics. Those belong to Graham Colton Band.

**A/N:** I guess this is a song-fic, but not everything fits with the song. It's "First Week" by Graham Colton Band off of _Drive_, which you should pick up (if you can find it!). I have put so much effort into this piece of work, really. Please give me a review because I would love to know what you think, or that this is being read. I've spent so long on this baby...I tried to include all the cast members except for Jimmy because, well...it's Jimmy! Yawn...I think I'll go eat a doughnut and pass out. Enjoy.

* * *

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_"The first time how we slept with the light on  
And the sun's coming up  
And we woke up on the floor  
Everything that you feel that you can't describe"_

Sandy looked over at his sleeping wife. Tears had dried on her cheeks and pillow, but he knew they weren't gone. The pain wasn't gone, because they were still gone.

Weeks had passed. Better times had disappeared. A family had dissolved into four different lives. And Sandy sat back and watched it all. All seemed to be left was hurt. God, he missed everything, just everything. Sometimes he would sit outside by the pool and just try to remember. His first son's birth, his second son's arrival at the place that was his home. The memory that comforted him the most, though, was his first night with Kirsten. Sure, they had slept together, but it was more then that.

They arranged pillows all over they cold hard floor and fell asleep at two in the morning. His arms around her in protection, the lights on, the television blasting. But they didn't notice, because they were together and sunk into a deep slumber, side by side. Laying there, smelling her blonde hair, touching her soft skin, he knew he loved her. He couldn't describe it for the life of him, but when he looked back at that moment, he knew that was when.

And he couldn't describe what he felt when he laid next to her, his arms around her again, smelling her blonde hair, but he liked to believe that he'd look back on it and remember it as when he feel in love with her. Again.

* * *

__

_"Are you feeling it in a different time?  
Are you telling the same jokes that you told me when we met the first time?"_

The bottle was cold, the breeze was chilly. The patio was icy on her bare feet, and it seemed like everything around her was frozen. She felt the same way.

Marissa didn't even cry any more. She thought if she did, her tears would be salty ice. The sun was so bright, but she didn't even notice. Her mother had told her to stop drinking a week ago. She had just laughed. Like her mother even cared. The only people who cared were gone. She'd sacrificed what she wanted for her father. Summer had enough shit to deal with on her own, Marissa wouldn't even bother to call her this time. Ryan left and wasn't going to come back. Not to her at least.

Probably cradling his beautiful Theresa in a broken down but beautiful house, most likely smiling. Everything was so fucking happy for him. He would have this great family and she'd be alone.

It was like he was in a different world. He was making a new life. She told herself she didn't care if it was a better one or not.

Every time she pictured him, he would be laughing, saying all the things that he said that made her fall in love with him. Or at least that made her think she loved him. Thinking she loved him was worse.

Because if he really loved her, he'd come back. He'd visit. At least he would call, because love was that strong. And whatever they felt for each other wasn't. So, she promised herself she'd move on. But trying to move on from Ryan was going to be one of the hardest things she would have to do.

Instead, Marissa just sat on the bautiful patio, drank her unforgiving poison, and thought about her ugly life. Because nothing would ever go right in Marissa Cooper's mind.

She closed her eyes for a second and let the crisp, cold breeze go through her hair. She could only go up now, she assured herself.

* * *

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_"Are you telling your friends that you can't live without him like we met the first time?  
Do you lie awake and wonder why?  
Is it always the same thing or is this just a new dream that's keeping you up at night?"_

Seth looked at the other boats dreamily. California was just a blur to his eyes and mind. He had sailed for a few weeks, went to an island right off the coast. He thought he could escape, but every wife beater told him Ryan missed him, every pair of tweezers told him his father was concerned, every short brunette told him Summer was crying, every woman fighting with her father told him his mother was upset.

Seth got right back on his small boat and came back to Newport. Everything to him was turning to Summer. He couldn't count the times he had wondered what she was doing. He liked to think she was okay, but he knew she wasn't. He always imagined her sobbing with Marissa, saying she needed him in her life.

The scenario brought a smile to his face, it was a dream that _Summer Roberts_ would cry over him, even care about him. On his lonely boat, he used thoughts of Summer to occupy his mind. Her eyes, her giggles, her small breaths as she slept.

Picturing her was what helped him to fall asleep at night. But he refused to believe that was love.

Because if he loved her, he knew how much it would hurt when she screamed at him and told him she was done with him.

Seth opened the door of his home. Silence was in the house. He simply dropped his bag in his room, cried when he saw his parents, and got in his car.

He had to see her, even if it was for the last time. He needed to remember that she was more then a dream.

* * *

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_"The first night how we slept with the light off  
All the stars shine above  
And all our clothes are on the floor "_

There were the nights when Kirsten wondered how life would be if she and Jimmy had gotten married. Not because she didn't love Sandy, of course she did, but because maybe she wouldn't be feeling the pain she felt until that moment.

In the back of her mind she knew her second son was gone and probably wouldn't come back for a while, but right in front of her was her first son. He was healthy, he was smiling, he was crying. She was crying, she was smiling. Everyone was.

All of the hurt Kirsten experienced in the weeks prior to Seth's return washed away for a second, but were still sticking out in Kirsten's mind. There were so many times when Kirsten took out the pills and sobbed with a bottle of Merlot.

All she had to do was swallow, but she could barely breath because she was so afraid. And then she'd think of him. The man she loved, the man she had married, the man she had made a promise to. She couldn't let him down. She couldn't let him be alone.

Seth quickly left to go to his girlfriend's. That night Kirsten realized how amazingly lucky she really was.

It was the first time in far too long that she had seen the stars shine back at her, as if reflecting her thoughts. Sandy stroked her arms and stared at her lovingly, and Kirsten melted. After so many years he still loved her.

It was something magical, in a way, that she felt. After losing so many people--Ryan, her mother, almost Seth, her father, Hailey--it was possibly the most comforting thing in the world to know she could never lose him.

The room was dark, not one light was on, but Kirsten knew exactly where Sandy was, and that was right next to her. Just where he always had been and always would be.

* * *

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_"I've been up and down your street, calling your house  
__I won't wait up till you get home  
__I'm just maybe better off alone"_

Summer was a devoted person. She rarely gave up on a task. And her task was finding Seth Cohen.

Hope was her best friend for one week. The hope she had wasn't constant, though. Many times it left her and all she was left with was tears and a letter. At those times she would think that maybe there was no use, and that she didn't even care.

She _didn't_ care about Seth Cohen. Right. He was just a task, and now she had him, he left, and she didn't care. Then why was she calling his cell phone and house phone for the seventh time that day?

Once she had managed to have a semi-normal conversation with Marissa. A conversation which didn't involve Marissa calling Summer a "fucking, selfish, fat bitch", Marissa crying or drinking, or screaming from either of the girls. In that conversation, Marissa had brushed off her friend's hurt with a bitter, "It's just _Seth Cohen_," Summer had bit her lip and decided not to retort. Just a waste of breath arguing with Marissa these days.

Twice she went to a party. She told herself she was not going to wait for Seth. He had missed his chance, he could go back to being a loser for all she cared. She kissed one boy before even getting his last name. After she felt dizzy and threw up in the bathroom.

Three times she cried her eyes out. The tears seemed to be endless. Everything was falling apart. She would blame it on the fact that Marissa was in pain, but that was the biggest lie she had ever told herself. The tears were because of her absent father, drifting boyfriend, and drugged-up step-mother.

Then the knock came.

Huge innocent eyes stared back at her, tears brimming in them. Summer got short of breath and could've sworn she was still laying her bed, and that it was all a dream. He couldn't really be back, could he? It was too much.

She put all her force into slamming the door. Fresh tears fell down her face, blurring her vision. She slammed her fist on the wall and let out a loud, frustrated sigh. She caught her breath and opened the door again.

She gasped at the sight and of all the times she had imagined slapping him, kissing him, tearing off his clothes right then, punching him in the stomach, none of them compared to then. She simply stepped forward and looked him in the eye.

He was real. He was there. He was hers.

* * *

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_"All the things that I feel that I can't describe  
Why can't it be like the first week?"_

Months flew by. The heat of the California summer and the house with no air-conditioning was certainly affecting Ryan's moods. The fights between he and Theresa became more frequent as her pregnancy hormones raged and his homesickness grew.

He explained that he was going to visit the Cohens in a huff and got in the car without saying goodbye. The relationship that had blossomed between them during all the years they knew each other had quickly dissolved in a few months.

The colors of the town strained his eyes. He had forgotten how artificial things in Newport were. He had only found a few real things in his time there.

The work of being back left him feeling empty far too often. The people who could comfort him were either not speaking to him or in another city. Ryan was just how he thought he'd be: alone.

He stopped in the driveway. His shaky hand reached for the door, but he couldn't open it. He couldn't get out of the car.

He swallowed. This place was home, why couldn't he just see his family? It was too real now. Life here was now just a dream, and fear was preventing him from living in his fantasy. He didn't want to be happy any more, did he?

The question clouded his thoughts as he drove back to Chino, being the last of them to cry.


End file.
